Rufescent
by Wrenne
Summary: One glance and Alfred knew that he had fallen. But after a night, will they ever meet again?
1. Chapter 1

**Rufescent**

Alfred sighed deeply upon realizing that his eyes were stuck on an Englishman. It's his third time to see the young man enter the restaurant and seems to wait for someone, but every time he'll check, he'll see that the Brit had already given up and had already stormed out the place.

His feet automatically followed, partially halting and pacing down when he saw the Brit sat on his usual chair.

"May I take your order, sir?" Alfred asked, his notepad and pencil ready in his hands. But the Brit only replied with his right hand, indicating that he's not ready to order yet.

_He never talked_. Alfred thought while partially bowing before the customer.

Even if Alfred felt a pang of embarrassment rushing through his entire body, he managed to breathe and slowly walked away from the Brit's table, towards another customer.

An hour passed and the Brit still didn't beckon for an order. Although Alfred is busy chatting with the other usual customers and giving them their orders, he made sure that the Brit didn't left the corner of his eyes. Through this, he is quite sure that the Brit's bushy brows met about ninety times per minute. Alfred also noticed the Brit's chin, resting on the back of his hand, and his forehead's veins twitching. Alfred laughed mentally, thinking that this is the worst he has seen the Englishman wait so long and glared so hard outside. Although, this little acts of the Englishman made his heart skip a beat. Everything about the man makes him think that he is somewhat cute.

A little dab from Alfred's mate made him snap back to reality.

"Hey, that Brit's been here for a couple of hours now, only ordering coffee or tea."

"Yeah." Was Alfred's soft reply, his eyes still nailed on the Englishman. "You think he would like someone to talk to?"

"Guess so."

The restaurant was slowly being deserted by the other customers, having most his time all to himself, Alfred took the risk and sat across the Brit's table.

"Hey there!" he greeted.

An uncomfortable expression was painted across the Englishman's face, but after taking a sip from his coffee, the Englishman just glared at him and went back on looking outside the huge windows.

"Not a chatty Brit, huh?" Alfred continued. "You know, if you're always being stood up by a friend, or a lover of yours, you should wake up and dump her."

The Brit's head jerked and his cheeks went red, he tried to sip some more coffee, but this time, his eyes befall on Alfred's.

"Can you suggest any solutions?"

"Like I said, dump her."

"What if I don't want to?"

Alfred's face went frozen. "Yeah, then just have some fun, since I'mma bet that she's having hers."

"What kind of fun?"

Alfred knows that doing this might ruin everything that he will ever be with this guy. But if it means making him forget even in just a couple of hours, then it'll give him a reason not to worry.

"Where's your house?"

_He really did show me his house._ Alfred's mind was throbbing so fast he can't even think straight anymore. Now what? What will he do next?

The Englishman turned to look at Alfred, "I'm Arthur, but that's all that you will know."

_Arthur. _"Yeah." Alfred removed his socks and looked around the house, a cozy, supple shade of blue and red engulfing the walls.

"Well," Arthur turned around and headed towards a certain room. "Should we start?"

Arthur's cold yet soft arms snaked around Alfred's neck. Soft kisses tracing his lips down the crook of his neck. Everything around them was swirling and Alfred felt like he was in a dream.

No words were said; no other things were heard, except for Alfred's dashing heartbeat. Barely knowing the man, only knowing his name, and yet here they are, touching each other.

When Arthur bit Alfred's earlobe, he let out a soft moan, and heard Arthur softly chuckled. That pushed him into his limit. He pushed Arthur away from his lap and pinned him on the bed.

"What in bloody –" Arthur tried to protest, but stopped abruptly by Alfred's lips.

Soft yet hungry kisses, that's what Alfred gave Arthur, he's no expert, but his skills are fine. Alfred gently smiled, and softly whispered, "Can you open your mouth?"

Alfred felt Arthur quivered, "Of – of course."

This time, Alfred leaned in not for another soft peck but for deep, needy ones. He struggled at first, but he managed to be one with the beat. The other man's tongue – gentle and soft, but is trying it's best to fight for dominance. But somehow, the gap made by the Brit's lips is making Alfred uncomfortable.

The crashing of their lips didn't stopped until Alfred decided to pull away. He slowly, carefully, watched as the Brit softly blushes. "Open your lips like this." Then his index parted Arthur's lips, and without any other notice, planted his lips on the other again.

The kiss was more forceful, much intense; Alfred's tongue dominated over the Brit's this time, making a way that makes Arthur moan every so often. Alfred noticed that the other's tongue was not as skilled as he expected, but that turned him on even more.

Arthur's hands, slowly traveled from Alfred's shoulders down to his hips, Alfred felt his heart about to burst out his chest when Arthur placed his hands inside his polo.

Alfred felt dizzy, yet heavenly. Even if everything will come and go this fast, he knows that he'll not forget this, that he will never regret this. This life-changing moment, from the moment this Brit walked in that restaurant with a sullen face, yet caught Alfred's attention faster than any hand waving. Love at first sight, maybe, but Alfred knows that this emotion should be kept, any way; there will be nothing else after this.

That fact gave him the shivers, he realized he didn't want this to end, didn't want to wake up from this perfect dream. As he was battling the thought of lust and pain, Alfred felt Arthur's hand fumbling over his belt.

"Already?" he asked between their kisses. "You want it already?" he finally asked, pulling away again.

Arthur looked down at his hands on Alfred's belt, and then returned his gaze back up at Alfred. "I can't?"

Shit. Those innocent eyes will be stuck on his memory for a lifetime. Alfred wanted to own those lips again, but he refused to return the man's stare. "If that's what you want then –"

Arthur slowly removed undone his buttons, Alfred can feel the urge to do that himself, but he remained silent. As Arthur started working on his own belt, Alfred can't help his thoughts to go topsy-turvy. Alfred's sense of, of everything seems to go in a daze. The view of this man stripping right in front of him is more than he had ever wanted or imagined. Slowly sliding his shirt off of his skin, showing that porcelain white flesh, Arthur really is the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. And this time, Alfred didn't win over the urge to touch him.

Alfred's arms meandered through Arthur's torso delicately. Alfred expected a force of shaking off, but all he felt was the surprised jolt of the man's head. Alfred placed his eyeglasses down on the bedside table.

"I can't see well, but I'll be in your hands." He said, leisurely reaching for Arthur's hand and gently kisses it.

As he does, he saw Arthur smiled, though a little. Alfred's heart did a triple back flip. His smile was angelic, he thought. So angelic that he wanted to see it again and again.

Arthur slowly made the move of situating a trail of kisses down Alfred's neck, continuing what he was doing awhile ago, down to Alfred's shoulders, before going back to his lips and playing with them. Alfred let Arthur busy himself, as he move his hands freely along the man's slender hip, moving him closer,

"The one you're always waiting for, is she someone special?" Alfred suddenly asked out of the blue. Maybe it was the curious second brain he has; nonetheless, he's always asking himself the same question.

"Maybe." Arthur replied. Alfred thought for a second that he had asked a wrong question.

"Maybe?" Alfred let out a soft moan, as Arthur bit his neck.

"Let's just have fun tonight, shall we?"

That means he doesn't want to talk about it. Damn it Alfred, you're just supposed to know his name, that's all. With guilt stirring inside him, Alfred slowly pushed Arthur away, though with surprise, Arthur leaned against the head of his bed. He realized that Alfred is about to go down on him already, and so he tried to stop him by pushing Alfred away, but his hands are already weak to do that, and as a result, it didn't seemed to startle the American.

"Stop!" Arthur weakly demanded.

Alfred pause, Maybe Arthur had changed his mind. "Stop? You want me to stop?"

Arthur's face is showered with a crimson shade already; Alfred can't help but think that this guy is way too cute for him, way too beautiful, and way too perfect. "No, I don't mean it like that…" Arthur arched his back a little, moving closer to Alfred. "I, I just want to take it slowly." This time, his eyes weren't fixed on Alfred's they are looking out in the dark, avoiding the American's gaze. "After all, this might be our first and last night together."

Alfred's eyes shot up. Awhile ago, he clearly remembered that Arthur wants to do it faster than he thought, but now, wait, did he just said 'might'? Now that's something to hold on to, might, this night might repeat itself.

Alfred simply nodded, his hairline starting to bead off sweat.

The room is too hot for them now; Alfred can't remember how many times he had entered the British, all he can remember is that they've shared the most striking pleasure he had ever had with someone. It's the first time he had wanted someone so badly, the first time he had done this without complaining, without the hint of wanting to stop. He can't remember how many times Arthur had called his name so sweetly, but he can perfectly remember the way Arthur had called him, had urged him to come in again, and had desperately reached up to him for his kisses.

Yes, he will never forget this night.

Hey Arthur, how can I say this?

I love the way you tremble, the way you smile, the way your brows furrow, even if I just shared a night with you. I love to spend the rest of my life with you. But, you know, I'm satisfied with just looking at you in a distance.

The first rays of the morning sun started breaking through the carmine curtains that had been used for their privacy. Alfred never hated mornings, but now, now, that it means that his dream is soon to be over, he despise it. Alfred watched as Arthur breathes in and out slowly, calmly resting on his chest. He should be contented right? With just this view, but, but, how can he let this go? Alfred's hair is tousled and his neck is marked with hickeys, but still, in Alfred's eyes, he's perfect.

"Say, Arthur."

Alfred's heart sank as he slowly let go of Arthur. He reached for his polo, his tailored trouser, and slowly fixed himself.

"What if…"

He finally reached for his eyeglasses, and looked at Arthur who's still peacefully sleeping,

"What if I say I wanted to meet you again?"

…and planted a last kiss on the Brit's forehead.

"What if I say I wanted to hold you again, no forever?"

And finally, with no looking back, because he knows once he did, he'll never get himself to leave, turned the knob, and slowly walked out the room. Every step is heavy, every step is hard, and it's as if, part by part, he's slowly killing himself.

Is it…love?

Maybe, it's love at first sight.

Alfred smiled.

No; it is love at first sight.

October 25, 2012

6:29 pm

October 26, 2012

04:07 pm


	2. Odds and Gambles

ODDS and GAMBLES

Alfred winced at the sudden pain he felt from all over – especially from his nape; partly from the way he slept last night he thought, however, he can't deny the fact that the hurt engulfing him is chiefly from that same pain caused by forcing himself to leave Arthur.

The sun is still sleeping soundly and Alfred is sure that it will not come out soon, not with these stars that sparkle and smile at the luminous moon; but still, even if he's under this pure past-midnight sky, Alfred felt like he was going through hell. Deeper and deeper through Hades that he just favor dying over going back to his previous life; sharper and faster as each day will pass by without Arthur gliding past his spheres. He just felt like a puzzle missing a piece. _Nah, that's too cliché_; but this change, this one change he had experience, life will never be the same. Two weeks. Exactly two weeks since that life-changing night he had shared with Arthur and he could still feel him breathe, locked inside his arms. It felt like last week, no, yesterday, no…it felt just like a minute ago… and Alfred smiled at that. Thinking how ironic it is to feel fulfilled and empty with just one memory.

How nice would it be if it'll happen again? How nice would it be to even just catch a glimpse of the Brit?

He spent the rest of the night trying to sleep, but eventually gave up when he realized that all he could see when his eyes are close, are those enigmatic emerald eyes framed by soft dirty-blonde hair, a few shades darker than the American's. The smell of Arthur and everything that he was, he is. Alfred felt like they have met to be together, like somehow, destiny managed to cross their ways. But he can't leave the thought hiding behind his mind, that Arthur just used him to pass time, as a piece in his game of pleasure. That last thought made him catch his breath, coerce him to stand up, his eyes drawing for some light. And so it's the first time that he had realized how beautiful the moon is tonight, luring him outside, and finally, made him step out to his little, cramped balcony. Alfred sat by the only chair available with his IPod hanging around his neck, white earphones tucked in both of his ears. His orbs gaze up at the sky, noting that the moon is unusually bigger; and then his sentiment flies off to a night for his keeping. And it goes on; he started to unconsciously think about what Arthur again, what he might be doing at this very moment. Dreaming – far from the reality of the world? Or simply sleeping, taking a rest? Or maybe, and Alfred prayed that fate forbids it, playing his game with another participant? Whatever it might be, he's sure that he's not involved with it in one way or another. He doesn't know why his heart started to jump nervously, his mind turned completely blank. The world dimmed through his framed glasses, even the moon that distracted him awhile ago disappeared.

Until he's the only one left in his cosmos – filled with Arthur and his universe – nothing more and nothing less. Until a familiar string of chords hit him like soft petals or falling leaves in autumn or snow – soft snow during winter. He imagined of Arthur's carefree smiles instead of his tired frowns, his mournful and needy eyes instead of the blank and coldness of his stare. Alfred imagined of a scene where he and Arthur sit close to each other – comfortable and warm. The soft crashing of the waves and the distant music from nowhere comforting them both, and they are contented with each other's presence. Far to the skyline, where the earth and sky looks like they're holding each other carefully, the earth holding still even though they're about to let go. Alfred thinks of it as a very selfless sacrifice, to continue to hold on, even if there's nothing to hold on to. But Arthur still managed to smile at the setting sun, its crimson skies, and the rufescent, pinkish, golden clouds frisking with each other. Alfred beamed at that unforgettable sensation when he drown into those jade rings, remembering those burning touch that at the same time is as gentle like silk, and of course that kiss, forceful but without a hint of any iron taste. A perfect night that so hard to forget, a night that would be embedded within himself after a thousand years.

And as the last thread of notes faded, the beautiful scene vanished with it. Alfred opened his eyes to the reality of the world where he really exists. The same balcony of his house, the same old moon, and the lingering pain of finally deciding to let it all go – a dream that could never ever happen – again. At least in that make-believe episode of his life, they were both happy; at least in that fantasy, they will remain happy.

The familiar chatters of the people having a meeting, dining, or simply wasting their time didn't get Alfred's attention. The usual mood of the American seemingly different, it's a good thing that a part-timer is now playing his role. Alfred sighed inwardly as he served a drink for a usual customer at the counter. A much acquainted Turk that doesn't really start any conversation.

The white-haired part-timer rushed to the counter, eyeing Alfred with his crimson globes and then grinned at Alfred. "Name's Gilbert. Call me Gil."

Alfred forced a wry smile, "Alfred." And after, Gil gave him a little nod and dashed to another customer.

"German." Alfred said to himself, observing the heavy accent. "Such a hyper one too."

The hours dragged on as Alfred tried to distract himself from looking at that one spot in the restaurant that kept on enticing him in like a magnet, and every time he'll lay his eyes upon that specific spot, he'll say to himself, "_Alfred, it's just another seat. Just like the others."—_Empty and deserted and insignificant. But he knows that he can't do it just like that, lying to his self is never that easy.

But still Alfred sighed, over and over this clip. "Back to the old habit Alfred." He insisted after looking at the same spot for the hundredth time.

"Why are you talking to yourself?" Gilbert asked while dabbing him.

Alfred smiled; yeah, he forgot this part timer also always picks on people's own business. "Nah, I was just lookin' round for orders."

"Phew, I'm glad then that I'm just a part timer." _Although he had worked hard today_…Alfred thought.

Gilbert continued serving drinks while throwing glances at Alfred, probably waiting for another answer, an answer that will satisfy his own curiosity. But no, Alfred is not in the mood of being his usual self, not after that dream that cages him still. He must admit, he tirelessly and endlessly wished for Arthur to come back to the place and wondered how he'll act.

Alfred heaved a sigh. "That's not possible." And then he looked at the white-haired man working beside him. "Say, Gilbert."

"Yeah?" The other answered, not turning his gaze, still focused on what he's doing.

"What will you do when you had a one-night stand with someone, and then that someone will show up suddenly?"

"Pregnant?"

"Uh, no." Alfred cleared his throat. "Just showing up."

Gilbert rubbed his chin dramatically. "Well, since I'm awesome that will not be much of a problem."

Alfred forced a smile; of course it will not be a problem for this guy since he's travelling the world. "Yeah."

"I think it all depends on why that someone is showing up."

"Like?"

"Like, if that someone's there just for a drink, or…" Gilbert looked like some expert with his sudden pose, but Alfred decided to keep that to himself.

"Or?"

"Or if that someone's showing up for another night."

Yeah. Another night, that will be great, to see Arthur again, much likely, to hold him again. Alfred thought of the things like he did on that balcony, but it's quite impossible now that almost a month had already passed. Maybe Arthur is back with his girlfriend, or if not, wasting himself in some other man's arms.

"One tonic."

Okay, must go back to work. "Lime or lemon?"

"Lime."

"Just a minute." Alfred turned to the mini cabinet and reached for a square glass. It is better like this, drown the good memories and keep it for reminiscence. Oh, ice cubes, Alfred jerkily looked back to ask the customer when he finally made out his face. Dour emerald eyes beneath bushy brows, in fact, he can recognize him with just the brows alone.

Alfred took a step back, astounded. "Ar-Athur?"

Arthur answered with a raised eyebrow, his eyes piercing through Alfred. "My tonic."

Alfred wants to ask Arthur why he's there, maybe he – no, he immediately left the thought behind as he remembered. Gilbert is right; it's either a drink or another night. But, can't it be both?

All Alfred could ever do now is to secretly take a brief look. This is the only thing Alfred can afford now. To adore those eyes affix the tonic, wishing he could be that drink if he can. That pale hand wrapped around the pellucid glass. And those lips he had owned for more than he can remember. Stop. Stop. _Stop._ Alfred shook his head emphatically as he can, hoping that the force will help him shake the lust away.

"Hey." Arthur called out.

Alfred jolted upon the call. "Yes?"

Arthur's eyes are still nailed on his drink. Alfred briefly wondered if he will ask for another one, that's why his own eyes looked at the drink, but it's still half-full. "I need your company."

Alfred woke up the next morning, eyes still sleepy yet already searching. He rubbed his eyes to have a better view of the room. The last time he was here, he did not get to carefully inspect the structure because he's too occupied with his emotions, but now, he can freely do that. Alfred slowly stood up after grabbing his clothing on the carpeted floor, made his way to the bathroom and washed his face. The room's a bit unfitting for Arthur's personality, maybe it's because it's still his job to find out more, but, can he? Will Arthur let him? Because Alfred knows for himself that he will take the risk.

"A pleasant morning."

Alfred felt his eyes suddenly bewitched by a familiar presence. "Arthur?"

"Your spectacles are on the bedside table."

Alfred flexed and looked at the said glasses, reached it lento and looked at Arthur. He's already had his right clothes on, but far from his usual formal tux. Arthur's wearing a rather oversized polo reaching the middle of his thigh matched with a pair of khakis. However, his hair is still a little tussled, obviously from the rounds last night. Nonetheless, Arthur is still perfectly perfect.

"Uhm, don't you have any work today?"Alfred asker as his eyes followed Arthur while he leans on the doorframe, and holds his mug out to Alfred.

"I don't feel like it." He answered lazily.

Alfred smiled. "Yeah."

"Want a cup of tea? Coffee?"

"Ah," Alfred smiled. "Yah. Anythin' will do."

Company, almost always Arthur will show up at the restaurant to ask for Alfred's company, and Alfred will always oblige. But the Brit never gave Alfred anything more than his name and address, not even his e-mail or phone number. And Alfred thought that everything would be smooth from that moment Arthur asked for him. With every night that Alfred holds Arthur, the more that he's afraid of letting go. What would he do if Arthur never shows up? What would happen if he can't bear a day without him?

"Ha…" Arthur slowly lay on the mattress as Alfred slowly rolled and settled by his side.

"Arthur…" he called out softly, nuzzling the Brit's neck. "What happen to that someone you're always waiting for at the restaurant?"

Alfred waited for an answer, but Arthur remained silent. "Are you still together?"

This time, Arthur turned to face Alfred, his arm snuggling Alfred close until their lips are inches apart. "You don't have to know."

And even though Alfred wanted to ask more, try to ask questions that Arthur will be forced to answer, to even know just a bit of who the Brit is, his thoughts were overwhelmed by the feeling of Arthur 's lips planted on him. And he forgot about everything.

Alfred watches as Arthur's cuddled close to him, slowly breathing and flawless as usual. He never wanted to hurt him; he doesn't want anything or anyone to hurt him. But if this scenario will continue, he will never be anyone, except for being's Arthur's toy.

And although it will hurt him, he'd rather bet to be nothing or something, than to continue to yearn and be hurt like this.

After all, Arthur's worth the gamble.

December 20, 2012

05:53 pm


	3. Over Again

**RUFESCENT**

* * *

**Chapter 3 Over Again**

* * *

_*A/N: Sorry for the late update! Hope you'll enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did typing it._

* * *

_After all, Arthur is worth the gamble._

"So, Arthur," Alfred pushed himself up as he searched for those emerald orbs. "Can you tell me some of the things you like?"

"Let's see…" the other said as he tossed over the bed to face Alfred. "Can you define what 'like' means first?"

"Uhm…" the American stirred. "Things that, uh…" this time, his eyes left Arthur to wander around the familiar room, hoping to get something that he himself is not really sure about. "Things that…"

A month, almost a month had already passed by so fast and he still can't manage to turn loose from this unknown relationship. Still. He can't wake himself up, and even if he'll always remind himself – stick a mental note that the longer this thing goes on, the more he'll be hurt – he still can't help but hope for more.

Knowing nothing about what he really means to Arthur made him hope that at least something might develop along the way, but nothing's happening. He's not even sure if they have any directions or rules to follow. To where this relationship might lead to. It's the same, meet and embrace and goodbyes.

He tried to confront Arthur with this matter concerning the two of them but somehow, he can't bring himself to do so. Maybe because, yes , it's a given that he's afraid that if he did, nothing will be the same anymore. Or worse, maybe Arthur will just let go and forget. After all, he had sex with the Brit in just a span of hours after meeting him. And our American never thought of anything close to letting all of this to slip.

Even if he knows the fact that he doesn't have any right to hold on to.

But in the end, he still promised to himself that he'll bet, to say that he doesn't want to stay like this. That he wanted something more and that Arthur should know all about the things the Brit makes him feel. That he's not doing this because he just wanted to fool around. That Alfred F. Jones is serious for the first time in his whole life.

Alfred wanted to tell him so badly that he…that he loves him, deeper and stronger each day.

"Well, I can't really, uhm, define, like, but I know," he paused, smiled for a brief second, "That you can say you like something, or someone, when, they make you smile."

Yes, that's perfect, just like what his lips always do automatically by the sight of Arthur. To smile, at least, if only Arthur could see through that smile.

And then he realized it, finally waking back to reality, with Arthur staring at him, Alfred waited for an answer. Instead, he felt Arthur's arms snaking around his neck; gently pulling him downward, closer to the man he never wanted to live without anymore. And then he felt Arthur's breathe close to his left ear.

"You're too cute." He heard him whisper.

* * *

"I don't know Gil." Alfred rubbed his elbow, glancing over the albino beside him. "I just, don't know how to say it to him, don't know how I'll ask, don't know how to let go." He slowly spilled, embarrassment taking over his cheeks. "And he didn't even answered my question last week." He murmured.

The other paid him a small smile. "It's not like you don't. You _can't_."

Alfred shot him his gaze, tried to smile back, but he just looked at him with mouth agape. "Yes," He answered. "you're definitely right."

"Well, we both know you can't fight against that." Gilbert snorted. "But really, you can't just let him fool around with you."

"I'm not even sure if it's all just a game –"

"For you it's not."

"Well that's playing dirty, Gil."

"Then why are you two always at that level?"

"What level?"

"Is it always sex you do when you cross paths?"

"At times, he'll just ask me to come over for a stay."

"And what do you do if he doesn't call?"

Alfred shrugged his shoulders. "Keep on waiting?"

"And what do you think he wants the most out of you?"

"My…" Alfred jerked. It hit him right on the spot. It's, painfully alarming, and annoyingly true.

The white-haired guy tapped the small of Alfred's back. "At least you're with him." And he hurriedly strode away to a customer's wave.

"Know the German's right."

Alfred shot the Turk a surprised look. It's the first time this familiar customer ever talked, and the only thing that acquainted him with this mysterious guy, is Alfred's fascination over his silence. "It's hard to hope. The higher you hope, the deeper you fall –the harder to stand up again."

It feels like everyone around him knows the fact that he kept on hiding from – that this unknown tie with Arthur means either going up so high, or falling down so, so low. It's hard to imagine life without Arthur now. It's hard to just imagine him not being there.

"I know that too well."

"Yet you keep on digging your own grave."

"I won't call it a grave at the moment."

"Oh, then let me rephrase it – you're preparing yourself to get killed."

* * *

Alfred sighed at the moon he's staring at. Three straight hours of just looking at nothing and practically wasting his time. But will he continue this? Can this go on forever? That, he's sure, is not gonna happen. Arthur has a life, and so does he. Arthur – Arthur is life itself. Arthur is the only reason he had to keep on going on. Arthur gave him the reason for his existence, and now…now…he doesn't know how to live without him. God, how many times did he added that statement to each of his thoughts?

But, isn't he being selfish?

Is he not being unfair?

He just wants Arthur to stay by his side and maybe that's the reason why he can't say it. Why he can't ask him.

Damn.

All of this.

All of this crap.

This beautiful, beautiful crap.

* * *

"Is he not calling?"

"Says he's kind of busy from that work of his."

"What's his work?"

Alfred froze. He knows so little about Arthur, and he even has the guts to ask him to stay by his side? But they don't really bring in that kind of conversation when they're together. And, little words are needed when they spend time in each other's company anyway. So, does it matter?

He rustled through his hair, trying to help his tension to ease.

As though the German sensed it, he chuckled cheerfully to the Turk. "Yah know, this guy here is about to have the biggest mistake of his life."

The Turk nodded.

_Talking about mistakes and stuff. _Alfred thought. "Had yah made your biggest mistake so far Gil?"

The German smiled rather ruefully. "I'm about to, American. I'm about to."

"Are you not afraid?" he asked curiously.

"Very." Gilbert smiled again. "I'm very afraid."

"And you will still do it?"

"If it means having him then yes."

This kind of answers… maybe this German wasn't all that he had expected.

"You know, sometimes it's okay to be selfish – at least when you'll realize that you're not meant to be with the one you like, you will not ask yourself what would had happen if you did this or that."

_If you did this or that..._

_If somehow I'll manage to connect my feelings to him, what would happen?_

* * *

There were no visits from Arthur the week that followed. Not even a call or text at the matter. Alfred did his best not to punch Arthur's number or walk straight to his house. That might just trigger detachment or worse – complete separation.

And the pain will only double because they are not even together to start with.

"Yow American Boy!"

"Yow. Gil."

"I'll grab some beer, wanna come?"

Beer. Sounds nice enough for some distraction. "Yeah, sure."

Gilbert led him into some famous pub, explaining that the beer they make is surely from heaven; and even if the beer is made in Denmark and imported here in America, it wasn't that much of a price because the owner is his comrade in drinking sessions. Alfred laughed as Gilbert told him the stories of how Mathias, the owner of the pub, runs after his first love that always rejected him. It was made to be funny, but at some point or another, Alfred will feel an arrow piercing through him. When they were in the pub itself, they were greeted with a hard spat on the back and an even louder being standing in front of them.

"Hey," Gilbert pushed Alfred forward. "This here is Alfred, got problems at the moment and that's why he's here!"

The blonde laughed after gulping in some beer heavily. "Name's Mathias Kohler. Native from Denmark!"

At this, Alfred laughed. He was sure of looking at himself a few years before this day – the jolly, care free jerk he once was. "You go to that seat, and I'll talk to you guys later!"

As Gilbert drive Alfred away to the table they were directed to, Alfred realized that it would had been easier if he never changed from that loud, careless American he once was. If only today, he's still that Alfred before, then saying his feelings wouldn't be harder than it already is.

They waited for a brief set of minutes before Mathias himself joined them. Gilbert really is a hard drinker. Alfred never saw him put his stein down or even touch the surface of the table. And then there was Mathias, who is worse, drinking beer from the bottle itself. Well, it's his pub anyway, what can he do? After a few cases of beer, Gilbert excused himself with a loud burp and headed straight to the men's room.

"American boy," Mathias called Alfred's attention. "What happened to you with that smuggy face?"

Alfred sighed. "It's kind of hard to tell the same story all over again."

"Well, I'm willing to say mine." The other offered.

Alfred nodded and turned his attention to him finally, gulping some beer of his own after.

Mathias chuckled. "I know the German already told you my story and my chase?"

Alfred simply nodded again.

"Well, it goes like this. Listen. If you don't want him, you don't have the reason to hold on and be stupid. If you want him, you'll continue doing these stupid things even if you don't have a reason to hold on to."

"Is, that a simple matter of want?"

Mathias smiled. "A grown-up want is called desire. A well-cared desire is called longing. And an infinite longing is what earth dwellers call love."

_So in the end… it will all go back to what we call love, huh?_

"And what if he doesn't want those stupid things you do?"

"Then you make him want it. You don't change yourself to fit the perfect match for someone you love. You simply stood by their side, make them feel you're there to catch them whenever they fall."

* * *

***Fin**

**March 15 2013**

**07:13 pm**


End file.
